A Lesson in Luck
by DreamerChick
Summary: The Bohemians celebrate St. Patrick's day and Mark get's a lesson in the "Luck" of the Irish.


A/N: Keeping with my holiday fics, I mixed my favorite holiday with my favorite musical and out came this gem.

Pick a cast it doesn't matter- OBC, Closing Broadway, Movie, any Broadway, any tour.

I don't own them (though I own a lime green cowboy hat). Just borrowing.

XXX

"Ouch...what the fuck?" Mark exclaimed coming out of his bedroom on day in mid March only to be pinched by Maureen. The hodge-podge Bohemian family was gathered around the loft, trying to think of how to spend the day.

"It's St. Partick's Day and you aren't wearing green." Maureen teased.

"What the hell? Are we still in like Elementary School?" Mark said. Before he could get an answer, Maureen called out "Dog-Pile on Mark...he needs a good pinching!"

The five other Bohemians had Mark cornered against the back wall of the loft and had him sufficiently pinched before he could really get a good idea of what was going on.

"Okay...okay!" He called out as the onslaught ended. "I'm sorry. I don't really have anything green..." he started.

Mimi tossed Mark a cowboy-hat that she had been wearing. Not just any cowboy hat though, a lime green number. "Now you do." she called out.

Mark debated the pros and cons of wearing the hat. The con: he would look ridiculous. The pro: He wouldn't be subjected to anymore of Maureen's super pinches. He put it on and after the initial jeers wore down he spoke up.

"So, are we going to do something for today or not?"

"The only thing _to_ do on St. Patrick's Day...we drink until we can't stand up." Collin's called out. "Then we smoke some green."

"We do something like that every weekend." Mark countered. An early case of spring ennui was taking over the filmmaker.

"It's kinda decent outside." Joanne called out, looking outside. The sun was shining and when she and Maureen had been heading to the loft they'd both noted that it felt warmer than it had in weeks. Spring was so close that they could taste it. "We could go to Tompkin's Square and have a picnic."

There was a moment as everyone debated then a chorus of "Yeahs" echoed throughout the small apartment.

Within 25 minutes they had packed a wide assortment of food, a blanket, and an even wider assortment of beer, that Collin's had bought for the St. Patrick's day party he had planned and were heading out of the building for what felt like the first time in ages. New York city had been cold and rainy in the months following Mimi's miracle and just now the sunshine had decided to come out of hiding.

Arriving at Tompkin's square park's 10th St Entrance, they meandered along until they came to a spot of grass under a tree that wasn't too terribly crowded and was near, at Maureen's request, a playground.

They spread out the blanket and food.

"Sláinte" Collins called out, though only Joanne echoed. The other four only looked baffled.

"Sláinte...it's the Irish equivalent of cheers." Joanne offered. "I learned toasts in something like 10 languages at Ms. Porter's."

Ever the teacher, Collins guided the others to repeat after him. "Slawn-Cha." He coaxed, raising his beer.

The other's echoed and bottles were clanked. They each raised a bottle to the sky in honor of Angel, then took to drinking, laughing, eating and drinking some more.

Having successfully consumed an entire case of beer, the playground idea just made sense. In the state of inebriation they found themselves in, it called to them like a siren song.

Unfortunately, no one seemed to remember that depth perception and sense of place are effected by alcohol. Especially not Mark, who had been filming the whole thing. He tripped, and in an effort to save the camera, he ended up landing awkwardly in a pile of clover.

Deciding that perhaps moving was overrated, he began to play with the clover, looking for a four leaf one.

And for once in his life, he found one.

"Hey, guys, I found a four leaf clover." He called out.

"Go Mark!" Roger called out from where he sat in the sand, watching Mimi try to climb up the ladder to the slide .

"Yeah...maybe it'll bring me luck in love." He murmured.

Just then a girl with red dreadlocks ran past, tripping on Mark's outstretched legs.

"Oh, my god. I'm so sorry." She said. "Are you okay?"

Mark, shocked and a little excited tried to flash a smile but when he opened his lips the alcohol he had decided to re-vist him and he ended up throwing up on the shoes of the deadlocked girl.

"Sorry." He slurred.

"S'okay... They wash..." She started. Mark felt a glimmer of hope until another girl, this one with short blond hair caught up with the mess and gave the red head a kiss on the lips. "Come on babe, lets get going." she said, glaring at Mark who blushed a bit and shrugged as he scooted back.

Mark watched as they ran off. He looked at the four leaf clover, the pile of vomit in front of him, and the running lesbians. He threw the clover to the side as he lay back in the grass.

"So much for the 'luck of the Irish" He thought, closing his eyes and hoping when he woke up this would be a nightmare.


End file.
